


three days on a drunken sin

by Splatx



Series: Kinktober 2020 [4]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: "Free Use", #6, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Blindfolds, Cunnilingus, Day 6, F/F, F/M, Free Use, Hosea is a good Alpha, Hosea is a great dom, Implied/Referenced Previous Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, Kinktober2020, Lots of slick, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multi, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pack Bonding, Pack Dynamics, Pack Feels, Public Sex, Rope Bondage, Safewords, Tags Are Hard, Tags May Change, The Gang is Family (tm), prompt 6, slick
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 07:42:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26848357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Splatx/pseuds/Splatx
Summary: Kinktober 2020, #6: "Public Use"There was a time honored tradition of sharing an Omega. Where an Omega would share their Heat with all the Alphas in the Pack - it was said to cement the bonds as the Omega would trust the Alphas of the Pack to care for and protect them, to make them stop hurting and tend to them, and the Alphas would bond in that they had to share, to keep from fighting, to work together to tend something so precious to them. And though you worried - you were the only Omega in the Pack, after all - you trusted them. The girls would be there if anyone got out of hand, and so would some of the men who wouldn’t be participating.And, though many books liked to portray it as such, it wasn’t some thrashing, writhing orgy - no, though an Alpha or two might share the Omega at the same time, they would never put the Omega at risk in such a way, would be careful and give the Omega a break between turns. You’d be taken on and off over the days of your Heat with maybe even hours of rest between goes - it sounded almost pleasant, really, at least to a Heating Omega.
Relationships: Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, Sadie Adler/Reader, Van der Linde Gang/Reader
Series: Kinktober 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947451
Comments: 16
Kudos: 68
Collections: Kinktober 2020





	three days on a drunken sin

###  _three days on a drunken sin_  
~Work Song, Hozier

###  _what yields the need_  
~Moment's Silence, Hozier

There’s something to be said about being part of a Pack.

You’d tried, once, and come your Heat had fled, holing up in a cave as those what were supposed to protect you sniffed around, had to put a knife in the throat of one as she found you, grabbed hold of your ankle and tried to drag you out.

The Van Der Lindes though, you’d joined because you’d taken them to be a _gang._ Ruthless killers what would never develop the bonds needed to be called _Pack,_ to care for each other, to curl up in a heap when it got cold, to nuzzle up and scent one another when they were sad.

But then you’d seen them interacting with little Jackie. Tossing him around, even awkward, somewhat terrified Bill coddling him, humoring him when he played his games of pretend. Seen Arthur come riding in, drunk and sad after collecting debts, and seen them rub against him in passing, purring and rumbling and chuffing in turn.

At some point they’d become your Pack, too.

And when you’d realized that, when you’d been shaking apart after a job gone wrong and Arthur hadn’t paused before coming over, throwing an arm over your shoulder and rubbing the underside of his jaw against the top of your head, when Jack had come up to you with a flower crown to cheer you up, when Hosea had sat down beside you and leaned to touch your arms together, you’d panicked. Ridden out and worked yourself half to death until you’d come to terms with _‘Hey, maybe if it’s_ them _maybe it’s not so bad.’_

  
  


It was when you hit your Heat though, that you truly came to trust them. The second time you hadn’t had much of a choice - the first they’d asked you what you’d wanted to do, had offered you a shack not far from camp, in shouting distance in case something happened and, though you’d worried what they’d their reaction would be, you’d said _‘I’d like the shack’_ and they’d not so much as batted an eye, even the Alphas not bothered even if some, perhaps, were a bit disappointed, Susan setting the girls on guard shifts.

And the second you’d intended to take the shack as well. Had been bedded down in fact, when Tilly - who’d been on shift at the time - had come flying in, saying that your things had already been packed and it was time to _go,_ that lawmen had tracked you down and were on the way, and you’d had to jump on your horse and flee though you were miserable, struggling to keep upright (and eventually you’d had to move, had to climb into a wagon with the girls), and they’d circled around you though the Alphas shook and trembled as well, their nostrils flaring and gulping down your scent, had shot more than one passing Alpha who’d looked at you a moment too long as you rode to your next campsite.

The third… the third you’d tested them. Kept to camp, slunk off into the woods when it got too bad, otherwise kept to your normal routine. And maybe they were a bit more touchy, a bit more hands-on — had scented you more, had marked you more — but you had felt safer than ever, more safe than when you’d been out in that shack with one of the girls protecting you, surrounded with _Pack_ that would gladly die for you.

The fourth had passed in much the same way, though you’d sought out comfort in way of physical touch, as Heat hurt much less when one had others to lean on, had quite literally leaned against anyone who sat next to you, curling against their side or simply resting your shoulders together, had found you greatly enjoyed it when Hosea let you lean your head against his shoulder.

So the fifth time… the fifth time, you put all your trust in their hands.

There was a time honored tradition of sharing an Omega. Where an Omega would share their Heat with all the Alphas in the Pack - it was said to cement the bonds as the Omega would trust the Alphas of the Pack to care for and protect them, to make them stop hurting and tend to them, and the Alphas would bond in that they had to share, to keep from fighting, to work together to tend something so precious to them.

And though you worried - you were the only Omega in the Pack, after all - you trusted them. The girls would be there if anyone got out of hand and so would some of the men who wouldn’t be _participating._ And, though many books liked to portray it as such, it wasn’t some thrashing, writhing orgy - no, though an Alpha or two might share the Omega at the same time, they would never put the Omega at risk in such a way, would be careful and give the Omega a break between turns. You’d be taken on and off over the days of your Heat with maybe even hours of rest between goes - it sounded almost pleasant, really, at least to a Heating Omega.

Even if the girls and the other men weren’t able to rein in the Alphas, you knew that Dutch and Hosea _would._ No one dared to disobey the Lead Alphas, even Micah though he’d never admit it, and they’d be keeping a close eye on the ‘proceedings’. If you called out, gave the ‘word’ that had been chosen, they’d step in and put an end to what was happening or, if you chose, the whole thing.

You’d arranged most of it with Hosea - though he was an Alpha _and_ unMated you were closer to him than to Dutch, if only just barely and, besides, Molly hadn’t been entirely comfortable with you discussing such a thing in so much detail with her Mate. And you’d respected that, respected her as the Lead Alpha’s Mate and, though you fully trusted Dutch to be ready (besides, you knew that Hosea had passed all the information to him anyways) if something happened, it was Hosea you made decisions with.

He was the most learned, anyways. Had read books about it - read even more when you, ready to bolt, had approached him about it. Had been the one to suggest a pair of ‘panic words’ just in case, been the one to prepare everything while you neared your Heat, forcing contraceptive teas down the throat of every person that expressed any sort of interest in sticking around.

  
  


“Is this alright, my dear?”

Though he was getting up there, you knew Hosea could easily break your wrist with very little thought. But he was gentle as if he were handling a baby bird as he tied them to the cuffs he’d had put into the table - though you knew that they could be easily undone. It had been his idea - including the slack so you wouldn’t tear your wrists apart as you were moved around; honestly, a great deal of it had been his idea. Had made you stop before settling down on the table, hurried off and retrieved a few pillows and fixed them down to cushion your stomach and you were grateful for it, had made sure that you were comfortable with the bend in your legs before fastening your ankles loosely to the table’s legs though, with how much slack there was in the rope, you could wrap your legs around one of the thinner Alpha’s waists and you thought you could hardly call it being fastened.

Honestly, being fastened down, being able to rely on someone else, was… rather nice. As an outlaw you had to rely on yourself so, _so much,_ but here you were trusting your Pack (and the thought of having a _true_ Pack, not what you’d thought was a Pack but had tried to do you horribly wrong come your first Heat with them, was something else, even as Hosea checked the ties you could hardly believe it) to care for you, to do right by you while you were completely defenseless.

Though not _truly_ defenseless of course - they’d never do that to you. You had Hosea and Susan and Dutch keeping an ear out for your words of course but, just in case and for your peace of mind, the ropes had been tied loose - you’d watched like a hawk as Hosea bound them, nice and loose so you could slip free if you were of a mind to but only then, you didn’t want to be yanked out of the ropes because of the movement, and he hadn’t minded when you’d tested them, over and over, hadn’t minded retying the knots each time until you were satisfied.

God, but you loved Hosea - though he was up there or, at least, getting there, what was he, fifty? though he acted older, you wouldn’t mind if he handed watch over to Susan and Dutch for a bit and spent some ‘time’ with you, wouldn’t mind him in and around you, would rather enjoy it actually, had teased him, nipping at his hand when it got close while retying the knot, grinned your amusement when his pupils blew wide and an Alpha’s growl rolled in his chest.

“Yeah,” you nodded, eyes lidded, resting your chin on your arm. You always got like this before your Heat - lazy and loose, groggy and sleepy, dozing off if you dared sit for a second. It irritated Susan to no end - you’d always done the men’s work but she still put you to work with the girls when she could, and she got her ear chewed if she woke you even if you fell asleep while hauling hay or feed, but it was hard to sleep while truly Heating, adrenaline and hormones and _burning_ running through you, and you needed that sleep, needed that food you shoveled down your throat (and no one particularly minded, as Pearson made the best stew he could when you were nearing your Heat and when you were Heating) in the days leading up, useless as Uncle on a good day though you _did_ try.

Hosea grinned, pressed a kiss to your forehead, gave a final testing tug to the rope, walked around and did the same to the others, adjusting the pillows that rested beneath your stomach and hips. You grumbled and yawned, though you could feel Heat beginning to burn low in your stomach, an itch between your legs, and as Bill lumbered by with a bale of hay in his hands he stopped to stare at you with hunger that was different than it had been all day. 

Susan shrilled at him and he ducked his head, flushed crimson, and hurried off to fling the bale at Kieran’s feet with enough force that it exploded into a cloud of flakes that set the man to sneezing.

  
  


A handkerchief was set down on the table in front of you, drawing your attention back. (Personally, you thought it was a scarf, but _“It is a HAndKERchIEF!”_ he insisted) Checkered and plaid, it smelled of Lead Alpha, expensive cologne and cigars and what little nerves that had been sparking along your spine settled. “Ready?” Dutch rumbled and, when you nodded, slumping onto the table, wrapped it around your eyes and fastened it carefully behind your head, mindful of your hair.

You could, though, you knew, remove it easily once you pulled your hands free of the ties if you needed.

It was traditional that the Omega was to be blindfolded. That they were to trust the Alphas not to harm them while being unable to see, to be tended to, to be hand fed and hand watered, only losing their blindfold when they were let off to relieve themselves. Though of course, they often could tell who it was from their voices - the Alphas weren’t _supposed_ to speak, not technically, but more often than not they did.

And even if they didn’t, an Omega’s sense of smell is _very_ strong.

“Alright my dear?” he asked, running his fingers through your hair. You nodded, ‘mmhmm’-ed, and he chuckled, pressing a kiss to your hair before, from the sounds of it, stepping back and walking off to his tent.

  
  


It was only an hour later that you began to shift, trying to get more comfortable, a bit more of an arch to your back, raising your hips, blinking awake to the feeling of slick beginning to drip down your legs. Oh. Oh, but you _needed,_ you felt so empty and you _burned_ and where were your Alphas?

You whined, long and pitiful, and the cacophony of the camp went dead quiet. Conversations stopped mid-sentence, the last twang of Javier’s guitar hung in the air.

And then there was screaming, loud yelling as they began to argue over who got you first.

Even over all of that, you could make out the girls’ sighing and Karen’s raucous laughter.

Hosea and Dutch didn’t dare try to break it up - they hadn’t learned to share yet and, besides, what were they going to do to decide who would go first, play dominos? They were already well wore out from chasing the others off from trying to sneak 'just a touch', 'just a look' or 'just a sniff' throughout the day.

_‘Will someone just get over here and fuck me already?!’_

but you couldn’t even manage that, you were too scrambled, too busy panting to try and catch your breath, to cool down against the _burning_ that raced through your body christ but you were hot, there was the sound of an impact, skin against skin and Hosea sighed somewhere nearby, spindly fingers ran through your hair, “they’re a mess, my dear,” though it didn’t escape you that his voice had dropped into a low growl and _Hosea please?_ God you’d give anything for him to do _something,_ you’d give anything for _anyone_ to touch you, even _Uncle_ but he’d left with some of the others who didn’t care to be around during this, had volunteered to take Jack into town on a ‘vacation’ until you were done Heating.

His hand went away suddenly though, and his steps retreated and _‘Hosea no!’_ but then there were fingers on your hips, rough and calloused but undeniably feminine, too thin and angular to be any of the men’s, and you could make out knees thudding to the ground behind you and “Ohh!” you moaned loudly as a tongue, firm and sure, ran over your burning cunt, lapping up your dripping slick before moving up to suckle your clit and you cried out, arching your back and clawing at the table _oh god_ that wasn’t what you _needed_ it wasn’t something _inside you_ but it was damn well close enough, you were soaking her face and you were fairly certain it was Sadie - at least maybe? you hadn’t thought she’d actively participate, had thought she was sticking around to make sure everything went safely - tongue making obscene sounds as it licked up increasing waves of slick and _oh god that kind of hurts_ with each lick pleasure shot through you and you _needed_ something inside you, more and more slick oozed out of you and with each lick your stomach cramped, “Fuck, fuck,” you panted, and there was silence for a long moment, the squelching of her tongue so loud that, even as you ground down against her lips, trying to force her tongue inside of you, the tips of your ears went red.

And then the fighting kicked up even louder.

You were fairly certain you heard John bite someone.

She clenched her hands around your waist before removing one, tweaking your clit with her thumb, giving a final lick that sent slick splattering loudly on the grass before stretching forward and suckling it, each suck shooting pleasure through you, stomach cramping as you made more and more slick and _oh god you needed some water after this_ and then she was working a finger inside of you and that alone had your back arching, hips rutting against her face as you screamed “SADIE!” soaking her face, clawing at the table and seeing stars, clenching rhythmically around it and _oh god you needed a knot where was the knot it_ hurt _without a knot_ and oh you were right it _was_ Sadie, that was her raspy voice that sounded a surprised chuckle beneath you. “Sadie, Sadie, Sadie,” you chanted as you began to come down, the woman withdrawing her finger and giving a final lick, standing up and leaning forward to plant a messy kiss on your back - they’d spent the money on a bite-guard, a specially made shirt that wrapped thick around your shoulders but left you otherwise bared, safe from a bonding in case any of them bit you without thinking - murmuring “Good girl,” before sauntering away.

You slumped against the table, barely aware of the fighting dying down, panting for breath.

Only came back to yourself when a hand as big as a goddamn shire’s hoof cradled your hip.


End file.
